Blink And You'll Miss It
by coffeebuddha
Summary: A collection of drabbles covering a variety of genres and characters.
1. Chapter 1

The picnic wasn't actually a police sponsored event, but it was close enough that Shawn was more than a little flustered when he suddenly found himself face to face with the former Mrs. Carlton Lassiter, who was apparently an old friend of the hostess.

She was surprisingly nice, elegantly beautiful, and a bit of a flirt; the sort of woman that, if he'd met her on the street, he would have liked instantly.

And just for that, Shawn hated her a little bit more.

* * *

Shawn Spencer was infuriating, aggravating, maddening, irritating, exasperating, vexing, irksome, annoying, and at least ten different kinds of crazy.

Lassiter couldn't prove it, but he had a hunch that Spencer was deliberately and methodically trying-and possibly succeeding-to drive him just as insane as the fake psychic.

But there was a pineapple in his fridge and a second toothbrush in his bathroom, so maybe crazy wasn't so bad after all.

* * *

Shawn stood stiffly between Gus and Lassie, wished that his mom had been able to come, and resolutely refused to look in the casket, because if he looked he would see and remember, and the last thing in the world that he wanted to remember forever was the sight of that faded husk of a body that was most certainly not Henry Spencer.

The California sun was bright and warm and he hated that it wasn't raining so he'd have something to blame for the wetness on his face.

Because as effectively as Shawn had once learned that he hated his father, he'd somehow just as effectively relearned how to love him.

* * *

For the most part, Juliet liked the way Shawn acted around her.

He was attractive, the attention was more than a little flattering, and it was just the sort of pick-me-up that she occasionally needed after working an admittedly less than 'feminine' job.

So Juliet allowed the flirting and the jokes and the occasional 'close talking', but she didn't let herself take it seriously, because she was smart and intuitive and had _eyes_, so she knew without a doubt that Shawn's heart already belonged to one of the station's detectives and it most certainly wasn't her.

* * *

Shawn was sweeping up hair in the oldest barber shop in Kansas when he got the call from Gus.

There was a party going on in the background and Gus' slurred words were good evidence of exactly how much he'd had to drink, but since Gus was Gus, he still managed to make a pretty solid argument.

And so, because Gus was waiting for him with promises of pineapples and good times and a truly _awesome_ start to 2006, Shawn pointed his bike toward Santa Barbara and took off.

* * *

**************Thank you for reading! Feedback is overwhelmingly appreciated.**

I started out just wanting to write a Shawn-meets-Victoria story, but after three sentences I realized that I liked it just the way it was. Then I remembered seeing someone doing a series of three sentence fics, and thought I'd give it a try. It was surprisingly fun and more difficult than I'd expected; I tend to be kind of long winded.

Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me.**************  
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	2. Chapter 2

**Prompt: "Shassie! Sweet lassie pining for shawn angst!" (SPOILER ALERT! Contains spoilers from 5x10 onward.)**

Carlton's a better detective than Spencer gives him credit for-he saw the change in the two of them the first day after they got back from Canada. Even if it hadn't been written all over O'Hara's face, the sudden shift in her attitude spoke volumes. Yes, she's always listened to Spencer's crazy theories and given them more weight than they deserved, but not like this. Never like this. And then there's Spencer, who practically inflates every time she enters the room. Carlton wants to take a needle to him just so he'll drift back down to earth with the rest of them. Maybe put him in holding until that goofy grin starts to fade.

T hey don't want to tell him. He understands that. Likes it, even. It makes things easier for them, but it also makes it easier for himself. Easier to ignore, easier to pretend. Carlton's done a lot of both of those things since Spencer first flailed his way in to his life. He ignores the way Spencer is always perching on his desk or the way his eyes flash when he gets angry. He pretends that the heat in his cheeks when Spencer manhandles him during one of his 'visions' is just from annoyance and that he doesn't remember that night when Spencer complimented his eyes. He's good at distancing himself, and the more he watches O'Hara and Spencer make goo goo eyes at each other, the more he withdraws.

Carlton's a better detective than Spencer gives him credit for, but Spencer's not nearly as good of one as he thinks he is if he's never noticed.

* * *

**Prompt: "Quicksand"**

Shawn Spencer is like some kind of dangerous natural catastrophe. Carlton is certain of that with every bone in his body. Spencer prances around the office, leaving nothing but destruction and upheaval in his path. He sits on Carlton's desk and creates a gaping ravine in the piles of important paperwork. He breezes into an investigation and blows everything to hell. He seeps his way into every insecurity and doubt Carlton has and floods him with more until he's drowning in the feeling of his own inadequacies. He's grasping and greedy and tortuous.

Carlton tries to keep his distance, tries to push him away, tries to sidestep around him, but it's impossible. The slightest misstep and he's caught, being sucked in and down further and further, caught in the inanity and insanity of Shawn fucking Spencer and his one man show. It's terrifying, heart pounding, exhilarating. When he was still married to Victoria, he could use her as a tentative anchor, a branch to hold onto so that even if Spencer sucked the earth out from underneath him, he could still keep his head clear. Now there's no branch; there's nothing except for Spencer. Carlton's sinking with no chance of salvation, and with each inch he loses, the more trouble he has convincing himself that he minds.

* * *

**Prompt: "Lassie's Frowny Face"**

There's cocoa powder on his counter and flour on the floor. The white upholstered stools pulled up at the island have egg yoke smeared across them and when Carlton lifts his foot to investigate the crunching sound he heard when he put it down, there are bits of shell clinging to the bottom of his nice, clean shoe. The fridge has a greasy sheen to it, like it's been smeared with oil, and the sink is overflowing with more dirty dishes than he even owns. And in the middle of the mess is Shawn with a huge, dripping bowl of cake batter in his arms and a huge, shit eating grin on his face.

"Lassie!" Shawn's hand, the one holding a spatula, shoots up in greeting and a spray of chocolate batter splatter's across his clean white shirt and face. A muscle in Carlton's jaw jumps and he can feel his face tightening into a glare. If Shawn's wide eyed stare is anything to go by, it's a pretty good one.

"Spencer," he says slowly, growling the words from between clenched teeth. "What are you doing?"

Shawn smiles, bright as sunshine, and haphazardly drops the bowl on the counter, batter spilling over the rim, as he crosses the filthy floor to Carlton.

"Making a sweet for my sweet," he says with a tone as innocent as can be and an indecent gleam in his eye. His fingers curl around Carlton's ruined tie and he tugs him close enough that Carlton can feel the batter seeping deeper into his shirt, pushed by Shawn's chest. Shawn's tongue is wet and hot on his cheek and the little purr he lets out is almost enough to make Carlton forget how wrecked his kitchen is. Shawn leans back and licks a bit of chocolate from the corner of his pretty, wicked lips, and Carlton follows him down for a taste.

"Very sweet," Carlton murmurs as he backs Shawn against the counter. He dips his fingers into a smear of cool batter and lifts them to his lips, his tongue darting out to catch a drip as it runs down the inside of his palm. Shawn watches him with dark, heated eyes, his breath coming fast and hard and short, and he leans forward to lick Carlton's fingers, their mouths meeting around them.

"Very, very sweet," Carlton gasps as he grabs for the mixing bowl with one hand and tugs at the hem of Shawn's shirt with the other.

* * *

**Prompt: "Pineapple Flavored Porno"**

"Oh, that's just not right! Do you really have to watch stuff like that at the office?" Gus pulled a face as he circled around Shawn to get to his desk. Shawn, who was lounging in front of the television, didn't even look up. He tilted his head to the side and quirked his lips as he intently studied the gyrating man on the television screen.

"It's research." Shawn said and popped a pretzel into his mouth. "It seems like the juice would sting. Do you think the juice would sting?"

"I don't know and I don't ever want to find out." Gus grimaced as he watched the TV screen out of the corner of his eye. He arched an eyebrow as the grunts on the speakers got louder. "Personally, I would think all the spikes would be reason enough to steer clear of doing something like that. How on earth did you even find something like this and what could you possibly be researching that requires you to watch it?"

Shawn shrugged and tossed a pretzel at Gus. "Gus, don't be a bristly wildebeest. You know my love life is private." He paused and turned in his chair with a huge grin. "Unless you want the details? Just promise you won't tell Lassiface I told you. He gets so embarrassed. It might upset him so much that he'll have to punish me."

"I don't want to hear this, Shawn." Gus's lips twisted in distaste and he grabbed the file he'd come in to pick up. "We have a deal."

"Aw, don't be like that, Gus," Shawn called after Gus as he hurried back toward the door. "Just because I'm with Lassie now, it doesn't mean I love you any less!"

* * *

**************Thank you for reading! Feedback is overwhelmingly appreciated.**

Blink and You'll Miss It was originally supposed to just be those original five three sentence fics, but I've been drabbling a lot lately and this seemed like a good place to put them. The first prompt is taken from the daily drabble challenge I've started doing over on my LJ where the first person to comment on the drabble chooses what I write about next. The others are from an alphabet meme I started doing ages ago that I'm currently trying to get finished up.

Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me.**************  
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